Do you fantasize about life without your spouse? You’re not alone.
The first time I fantasized about life without my spouse was Year 6. I cheated on her for the first time in Year 18. We finally divorced in Year 25.
In reality, my divorce was inevitable. My cheating wasn’t.
I learned some painful, valuable lessons. If you are considering cheating, learn from my experience so you can avoid some of the pain.
Cheating requires deception
Do you think of yourself as an honest person? Honest people don’t cheat.
This article isn’t about sex. It’s about cheating. And cheating is about deception.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not saying honest people do not think about cheating. I am saying honest people don’t cheat. And if you cheat, you are not honest.
Answer this question: Are you comfortable with being a dishonest person?
I was willing to deceive so that I could have sex. I deceived my wife. That was bad enough. What was worse is that I deceived myself.
I’d always thought of myself as an honest person. A trustworthy person. My word was my bond.
That turned out to be untrue. And I hated myself for it.
Listen, I do not judge you. Believe me, I understand the power of the human drive for physical and emotional intimacy. If you are in a marriage without intimacy, I understand your pain. I lived through it.
I tried to salve that pain by cheating. It didn’t work.
The cure is worse than the disease
The problem I was trying to fix was simple: I needed sexual intimacy. And – to be frank – emotional intimacy as well. I had neither in my marriage.
Having sex with another woman met my need for sexual intimacy and – to a certain extent – for emotional intimacy. But it created a whole new set of problems for me as well.
It cost me the respect of the 5 people who mattered most to me: my 4 children and myself.
Once I’d cheated, I couldn’t avoid the truth about myself: I was a liar. I hated myself for my deception. And when my children found out I was a liar, they hated me for it too.
The wise path for me would have been to force the painful conversation with my wife.
“I need sexual and emotional intimacy. Our marriage is not giving it to me. This is such a powerful need that I will get it met somehow, some way. This is not a “me” problem; this is an “us” problem. We need to work together to fix it.”
I didn’t have that conversation though. Why? Because I knew it would hurt. She’d lose her mind and cry and pout and run away. And that would make me feel worse.
So, I punted.
I pretended that everything was all right. I pretended to be a contented husband. But I wasn’t. I grew more dissatisfied, angry, and resentful with each passing day.
You can’t unring the bell
Once I’d crossed that border between “thinking about it but not doing it” and “doing it”, the die was cast.
I could confess to my wife and relieve my own guilt, or I could keep pretending. I confessed. And it was every bit as painful as you might imagine.
In truth, our marriage was over that day. It took another 8 years to admit it to ourselves and make it a reality. But that’s the day it ended.
Like I said, our marriage would have ended whether or not I cheated. We could have divorced and got on with our lives. And it would have hurt. But my cheating made it far more painful for everyone involved.
You are not alone
Your situation is not unique. Sexual unfaithfulness among committed partners is common. Emotional unfaithfulness is common as well.
Since my divorce, I’ve met many people who cheated or were cheated on.
The common perception is that the cheater is the “bad guy” and the jilted spouse is “the good guy” in this little drama.
It’s seldom that simple. Relationships are complex. The easy answers seldom work. And the simple answers are seldom easy.
So, don’t further lie to yourself. Don’t tell yourself, “nobody understands.”
Lots of us have been there. Lots of us understand.
If you’re thinking about cheating, if you want to know how to avoid unnecessary pain, leave me a comment. I want to help.